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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535968">don't know what's gotten into me (why i feel this way)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentichefuoripiove/pseuds/sentichefuoripiove'>sentichefuoripiove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>say it now [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Grey's Anatomy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(or is it?? lol), Canon Divergence, F/M, set during 15x12, so you get a M rating but actually its not really, the sentiment is there tho, this was supposed to be smut but apparently i am too chicken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:01:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentichefuoripiove/pseuds/sentichefuoripiove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“You know what I like to do on dates? I like to dance” he says at some point, and he looks so adorably hopeful, earnest, that she feels bad when she lets out a disbelieving laugh.</em>
</p><p>  <em>“Forget it.”</em></p><p> <br/>Meredith actually goes to the New Year's party at the loft.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andrew DeLuca/Meredith Grey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>say it now [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1371181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>don't know what's gotten into me (why i feel this way)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>disclaimer: i am aware that this, as a sort of canon divergence thing, should probably not count in the series of missing scenes from 15x12, but i'm putting it there anyway because a girl can only dream</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She hates that he’s right about her. </p><p>She’s not usually one to defy expectations just for the hell of it, as much as her husband used to think, or as much as Webber and Bailey still like to berate her for it. She has never made being unpredictable a thing about her. </p><p>Well, at least not on purpose.</p><p>Because, after a lifetime always on her own (spending her childhood following her mother around, angry and moody teenage years when she kept everyone at arm’s length), now she likes to have people that know her. She finally has friends who have been around long enough not to be surprised by her anymore: there is some sort of calm safety in knowing she can just live her life, not worrying at all about how her actions will be perceived.</p><p>It’s probably why what he said earlier today bugs her so much.</p><p>He is <em>most definitely not</em> one of her people, and this, the fact that he could see right through her and call her out on her bullshit, really rubs her the wrong way. </p><p>Or the right one, she hasn’t decided yet. </p><p>“New Year's Eve… is that a date?” he had asked her, right in the middle of the hallway on the ICU floor, not caring there were plenty of people around who could hear him. Then again, she had all but asked him out in the lobby, right in front of the Chief of Surgery and three different Heads of Department, so she guesses that doesn’t matter much anymore.</p><p>“Or is that like: <em>oh, come to this party, and we'll make eyes at each other over the punch, but I'm not really brave enough to talk to you in public</em>?” He had been smiling while he mocked her, eyes bright and happy, shifting his weight and tilting his head, bursting with excitement. She would have found it cute, if she hadn’t been so utterly offended. </p><p>Because this is Andrew DeLuca, of all people, calling her out on her own deflecting tendencies. She’s not really used to people being this honest and direct. Alex and her sisters, even Jackson, would have let it go with a snarky retort, at most Bailey would have stared her down until she caved under the pressure and apologized. </p><p>She is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that <em>Andrew DeLuca</em> seems to have the same effect Bailey has on her.</p><p>And since Meredith is still Meredith, who after all is way too predictable for anyone that knows her, she had no choice but to say yes, agree to the date, give in to his amused eyes and tilted head and softly upturned lips. She had watched him walk away and fist-bump in celebration, and she had to suppress a giggle she really has no idea where it came from.</p><p>*</p><p>It’s 9.30 pm on New Year’s Eve and Natasha is finally ready for her speaking valve. It’s the sort of treatment that’s usually scheduled during the day, but the holidays are a hectic time and this the first opening the specialist had all day. Meredith really didn’t want her patient to have to wait another day for this, not after everything she’s already been through.</p><p>So, naturally, she isn’t thinking of anything other than her patient’s care when she changes out of her nicer party clothes and puts her scrubs back on. Obviously, it has nothing to do with who’s waiting for her at the party. Nothing at all.</p><p>“Hey, why are you still dressed like that?” she hears behind her while she’s looking over Nathasha’s chart, and she turns to find Jackson staring at her, slightly puzzled.</p><p>“Like what? I’m at work, this is what we wear at work.”</p><p>He arches one single eyebrow at her, unimpressed with her witty retort. “Ha-ha, very funny. I meant, why aren’t you dressed for the party? It’s getting late, we should go. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”</p><p>“My patient is using the speaking valve for the first time, I am not going.”</p><p>If possible, Jackson’s eyebrow shoots up even higher, and with a few steps he’s leaning on the nurses’ desk next to her, elbows resting on the counter and hands folded between them.</p><p>“Mer, what is it?”</p><p>She looks up at him briefly before focusing her attention back to the chart, trying to play it nonchalant. But she know that her nervous energy is written all over her face, that if it’s on her face Jackson will be able to see it, and if he’s able to see it he won’t let it go until she’ll cough up the truth.</p><p>For a brief moment she wishes she were talking to Owen instead. Owen never recognizes her nervous energy face.</p><p>“Nothing” she mumbles weakly into the tablet.</p><p>“Yeah, this is not happening” he announces suddenly, straightening next to her and placing his hand on her shoulder, forcing Meredith to look at him. “If I have to go to this thing, when my mother is at home sick and I have absolutely no interest in celebrating, so do you. Let’s go.”</p><p>“Jackson” she tries to reason, feeling her own resolve slipping away from her, “I have patients, I can’t just leave for a party.”</p><p>“We are going.”</p><p>“I have work!”</p><p>Jackson stares at her seriously, the furrow in his brow telling her he’s seeing right through her excuses (she takes it back, she hates having friends that know her so well), when something catches his eye and he turns to the person walking down the hallway. “Schmitt! Come here please.”</p><p>The younger man approaches them, wary. He’s dressed for the party too, but he looks defeated, his shoulders slumped, like he’s already figured out what’s about to happen.</p><p>“You’re on call tonight, right?”</p><p>“I am, but I’m actually meeting Nico to go to the par-”</p><p>“You’re not anymore” Jackson tells him, deadpan. “You’re gonna go change, so that Dr Grey here can do the same and we can leave while you supervise Nathasha’s valve installment.”</p><p>“Jackson! No!” Meredith jumps up, taking a step forward and between the two men. “Schmitt, you do not need to do that, I’ll-”</p><p>“Meredith, shut up, we’re going” Jackson takes her by the elbow, and starts guiding (more like dragging) her down the hallway. “Thank you Schmitt!”</p><p>*</p><p>The loft looks like a whole different place. Jo put up decorations, and mood lighting, and caterer-level food on every available surface. She’s clearly very proud of the result: Meredith observes her bouncing from guest to guest, smiling brightly, dragging along with her an uncharacteristically cheery Alex. Everyone from work is here, filling the space easily, enjoying each other’s company and the holiday spirit.</p><p>Meredith, on the other hand, has carved herself a nook in the corner beside the stove, and hasn’t moved since. She’s petrified in place, and she keeps kicking herself for agreeing to do this.</p><p>
  <em>What did she get herself into?</em>
</p><p>No one’s really noticed her, thankfully, so she can just hide in her spot, pretending to be deeply interested in the contents at the bottom of her glass, sometimes stealing quick glances around the room to monitor the situation. Bailey looks visibly tipsy, giggling to an amused Teddy Altman; Jo and Alex still doing their rounds, still holding hands. Jackson, as much as he berated her for not wanting to come, is sulking on a stool while Maggie is trying to cheer him up. Everyone is accounted for, and no one is really returning her gaze.</p><p>Until.</p><p>Andrew is standing on the other side of the room, talking to Nico Kim. He seems fairly interested in the conversation, but for a moment his eyes wander and that’s when he sees her, the exact moment she looks at him. His lips turn up in a smirk.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, crap.</em>
</p><p>He tilts his head curiously in that way he has, his smile softening a little, and raises his glass to her, a greeting, before turning back to his conversation with the other man. He doesn’t walk up to her, or stares her down until she’s the one to move, like she expected him to. He just acknowledges her presence and then goes back to whatever it is he was doing like it’s not a big deal, but there’s that smirk still plastered across his face that tells her he’s doing it <em>deliberately</em>, and she feels herself flash hot.</p><p>
  <em>He’s going to ignore her on purpose until she makes the first move.</em>
</p><p>She lets out a frustrated whimper before she can stop herself. He’d warned her, that if she wanted him to keep chasing her she would have to take some steps too. She just thought he was mostly kidding.</p><p>More than that, this puts her in front of a question that she’s been trying to avoid for months now: does she <em>want</em> to be chased by him? It has been kind of fun, in a way. She hasn’t felt so… <em>unsettled</em> by a guy in a really long time, that feeling of being attracted to someone without really understanding why, or whether she even should. But the longer it goes on, the more it’s starting to feel like it’s something real, not just some awkward moment in the hallway. They’re at a crossroads, and they have to decide if they actually want to take this somewhere. <em>She</em> has to decide, actually.</p><p>“Hey! Have you found Linc yet?” Jo’s voice shocks her out of her thoughts, and she focuses on her friend approaching her, drink in hand. For some reason, Jackson is not far behind, but Meredith just chalks it up as him wanting a new beer.</p><p>“Should I have?” Meredith asks, feigning confusion, while on the inside she’s rolling her eyes at Jo’s insistence.</p><p>“Meredith!” Jo whines, “I told him you were coming together!”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have” Jackson pipes up before Meredith can even say anything. “She can make her own decisions, Jo.”</p><p>“Oh, shut up. You’re just saying this because you want her to-” Jo scoffs at him, and Jackson interrupts, talking over her with “stop trying to play matchmaker, it’s obvious she wants to da-”</p><p>It escalates quickly, and soon Meredith just tunes them out, while the two of them bicker loudly on either side of her, like a demon and angel arguing over her shoulders. So, she’s back to sipping her drink, and staring at Andrew DeLuca. She didn’t really do it on purpose, but he’s just… <em>right there</em>, and her gaze slipped, and now she can’t really look away. </p><p>He stares right back, actually, and Meredith feels herself blush, from the shame of getting caught, but mostly because that’s just the way he makes her feel when he looks at her, apparently. Nico is still talking, and Andrew’s clearly still listening to him, nodding along and interjecting from time to time, but his eyes never leave her, dragging along her body quickly before fixing into hers again. He smirks, eyes dark that she can see even across the room, and her mouth goes dry.</p><p>
  <em>Damn it.</em>
</p><p>“Mer, did Linc tell you he has a nephew he goes to see every weekend?” Jo’s voice cuts through her quickly spiraling thoughts, and Meredith tries to focus on her face. “He’s so good with kids, I remember one time-”</p><p>Meredith is sure there’s an end to that sentence, can vaguely make out Jo’s voice like it’s from a distance, but she doesn’t understand any of it. Her gaze slips to Andrew again, and he’s still watching her. <em>Shit.</em></p><p>
  <em>Alright, what the hell.</em>
</p><p>She sets her glass down on the counter, and crosses the room to get to him. No one really pays attention to her, no one actually cares, except maybe for Jo who lets out a strangled, outraged gasp. When Meredith gets there she has to clear her throat to get him to turn around. She feels her resolve starting to falter, and she steels herself before she can start second guessing herself. <em>This is happening Meredith, stop it.</em></p><p>“DeLuca” she says, over the music, and both he and Nico turn at the sound of her voice. “I need to talk to you about Nathasha’s new protocol. Dr Kim, do you mind?” She keeps her eyes on Nico, trying to ignore the way Andrew’s gaze is burning a hole in her chest. This is already a trainwreck.</p><p>“Of course. I’ll see you later, man” Nico excuses himself, and Meredith follows him with her eyes as he goes to find Linc, focused in a heated conversation with Owen and Koracick. Leave it to him to actually manage to get those two to go along for the night.</p><p>“So” Andrew pipes up from behind her, his breath tickling her ear and this is already too much, what was she thinking, and she doesn’t turn to face him yet, just closes her eyes and waits for him to continue. “I don’t want to brag, but I was right, wasn’t I.”</p><p>She can feel the smile in his voice, and the way he’s mocking just to get a rise out of her, and it makes her smile too, suddenly at ease, and she turns to look at him properly.<br/>
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Are we finally going to spend some time together instead of just playing the staring game? You know, like on a normal date?”</p><p>“I never said this was a date, Andrew.”</p><p>“Oh, but you did” he lowers his voice, stretching the vowels in his words and leaving Meredith a little breathless just from that, and takes a step forward. She has to crane her head up to look at him properly, but she doesn’t step back. She’s terrified, but she’s not backing down.</p><p>“Did I?”</p><p>“You did. I made sure to ask, because I didn’t want to read too much into things.” He smiles, again, but this time it’s warmer, softer, like he’s letting go of the smug front he was putting up. Meredith realizes that he’s just genuinely happy that he gets to spend time with her, no ulterior motives or thrill of the chase or anything. She’s surprised when she finds that, somehow, she was looking forward to this too. It’s probably why she’s been fighting it so damn hard.</p><p>“Fine, then. Will you get me a drink?”</p><p>*</p><p>In retrospect, she shouldn’t have let him get her this drunk. </p><p>But she’s still terrified of this entire thing, and some liquid courage seemed like a good idea, in the moment. Plus, Alex bought the tequila he knows that she likes, and Andrew managed to sneak a bottle to the little corner they retreated to. </p><p>Maybe she <em>is</em> a little drunker than what’s advised, but something in her mind tells her that’s not the reason she’s finding it so easy to talk to him. Andrew is… easy, fun and mostly uncomplicated. Now that she’s let herself spend some time with him, she’s discovering new sides of him she never really thought to explore.</p><p>For years, he’d been DeLuca. DeLuca, who’s competent in his job and the resident attendings often fight over; the guy that spent some time on her couch, and that was the extent of how much attention she ever gave to him.</p><p>But now, for reasons she’s not quite sure she understands yet, he’s become Andrew, and Andrew is... passionate about things other than medicine, talks about them excitedly, eyes lighting up and hands waving around, which she finds adorable.</p><p>Andrew has a great sense of humor, and a greater laugh.</p><p>Andrew looks ridiculously attractive out of his scrubs, older. The deep navy of his shirt compliments his eyes better, and the leather jacket shows off his broad shoulders far more than his plain lab coat ever could. Meredith hopes he’s not noticing the way her gaze keeps dropping to his chest and arms. She thinks that if he did, she might die of embarrassment.</p><p>“You know what I like to do on dates? I like to dance” he says at some point, and he looks so adorably hopeful, earnest, that she feels bad when she lets out a disbelieving laugh.</p><p>“Forget it.”</p><p>“Why?!”</p><p>“I am not dancing with you here” she points out, stubborn. Her mind wanders for a second to what it would look like if she let herself do it, imagines looping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his while they…</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stop it.</em>
</p><p>Andrew doesn’t seem particularly fazed by her stubborn refusal, gracefully nods in understanding. He just smiles, easy, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just that Meredith is famously addicted to complicate things for herself when she doesn’t have to, but instead of letting this go, she opens her mouth.</p><p>“Besides, I’m not sure you could handle my dancing.”</p><p>Andrew’s eyes widen in surprise, but it only lasts a second, before he regains his composure and flashes her the most wicked grin she’s ever seen on him. <em>Oh, shit, why did she say that?</em></p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p>“Yes” she nods vigorously, now committed to keep up the act, “I’m way better than you could ever imagine.” Her tone is stubborn, almost petulant, like a kid trying to prove a point, but she knows her words sound just as flirty as she fears. For some reason, she can’t stop herself. </p><p>“I have no trouble believing that” he tells her. His voice has gone lower now, not quite a growl but definitely getting there. Meredith swallows heavily, the tequila making her mouth dry. She stares at him, waiting for him to say something else, <em>anything else</em> in that voice. </p><p>“...but I still think I should judge for myself.”</p><p>Meredith takes a second scanning the room: there’s Bailey, still blissfully tipsy (but Meredith just <em>knows</em> that she’ll never hear the end of it if she dances with Andrew in front of her); and Linc, who she’s successfully managed to avoid all night, despite Jo’s constant attempts to get them together. <em>Nope</em>, she thinks, <em>this cannot happen here.</em></p><p>“Follow me” she decides quickly, taking his hand as she stands, wobbling a little from the tequila. She’s suddenly painfully aware that, for all the time they spent stealing glances at each other, the last time they actually touched was when they got trapped in the elevator and they almost…</p><p>And the time before that, she took his hand to guide him away from a crowd, just like tonight, and he ended up…</p><p>She grabs his hand, and drags him across the room, resolute, not meeting anyone’s eyes. In the distance, she thinks she hears someone (someone who sounds too much like Jackson) yell <em>yes!!</em> above the noise of the crowd and the music, but she doesn’t turn around to check.</p><p>*</p><p>The door closes behind them with its usual loud screeching sound. Music can still be heard from inside, but it’s muffled, and the hallway feels too quiet, too echoey, and suddenly Meredith feels very exposed. She turns to Andrew, slowly, and he’s a few feet from her, studying her, amused. </p><p>“We’re gonna dance in the hallway?”</p><p>“We are” she quips, self-conscious (and wouldn’t it have been better if she felt like this <em>before</em> doing something so reckless), “I have to warn you again, I wasn’t exaggerating before.”</p><p>“I wasn’t either” he tilts his head, takes a step forward, “I’m completely prepared for you to blow my mind.”</p><p>He sounds more sincere than flirty, but those words still carry all kinds of meanings and Meredith’s knees go weak, she has to keep herself from falling face first into him. He’s gotten closer somehow, and he silently reaches out to her, placing his hand on her hip, slowly pulling her forward. She lets him guide her, moving on instinct, raising her arms to rest on his shoulders when he gets close enough, following him step for step when he starts to swing to the music. </p><p>It’s not as awkward as she thought it would be. It's strange to dance and actually hear the sounds of fabric rubbing together, the tread of feet on the ground, the sounds that would usually be covered by the music, too low now to actually accomplish its role. Andrew is a good dancer, he has rhythm and he’s firm in guiding her, but he isn’t suffocating her, letting her move as she likes. There’s nothing inappropriate about any of it, and yet.</p><p>Meredith is burning hot everywhere, each point of contact with him a searing spot on her skin. She doesn’t even know where it’s coming from, this sudden need to be closer to him. The music changes, the next song picking up the beat, and she finds herself stepping forward into him, holding tighter to his neck, swaying her hips more deliberately. Andrew drops both of his hands on her waist, and lower, following her movements and inching her even closer. That’s when she decides to look up.</p><p>Her breath catches when she sees him, finally realizing how close they actually are. He’s towering over her, head tilted down to meet her eyes, their foreheads brushing against each other with every step they take to the music. His pupils have blown up to the point that there’s nothing but black in his eyes, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything <em>hotter</em>.</p><p>It’s lust, and <em>want</em> painted all over his face, which she’s sure it’s matched by her own, and still he’s holding himself back, inching only has close as she allows him too. If it’s a game, he’s letting her make all the moves, waiting.</p><p>It’s fucking frustrating, really, because she’s still terrified out of her mind of whatever this is, and she’s only letting herself take excruciatingly slow steps toward what she knows it’s the inevitable end goal. She’s holding herself back, too, and she wants to laugh at the fact that if they both keep doing that, they’ll never get out of this impasse they’ve worked themselves into. She presses her hips a little more forcefully against his, and he drops his head just enough that their lips barely brush together, a ghost of a kiss, and that’s when Meredith decides that she’s had enough.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck this.</em>
</p><p>She grabs a fistful of his hair, and drags him down to her mouth. It should be sloppy, teeth knocking together with the force of her gesture, he should be losing balance and tumbling into her, caught by surprise.</p><p>It isn’t.</p><p>He meets her halfway, like he’d read her mind, like he knew she was going to kiss him even before she did. His mouth moulds perfectly against hers, hot and demanding, his tongue poking out and licking at her lips. Meredith stops thinking then, lets him take the lead, too lightheaded from the kiss (and the fact that <em>this is actually happening</em>) to retain any coherent thought.</p><p>Andrew isn’t being polite anymore. It’s almost like he had barely been holding on to sanity up until that point, and the second she gave him permission, all of his desires broke loose. He moans, low and throaty into her mouth, pushing at her until she steps back, until her shoulders slam against the wall behind her, and suddenly he’s everywhere at once, his front pressed against her, his hands roaming from her hair to her face to her back, traveling down to-</p><p>She feels like she can’t breathe, and more than that like she doesn’t really want to, not if it means letting go of <em>this</em>. She balls her fist up into his shirt, trying to get him closer, one of her hands snaking under his leather jacket. His skin feels hot even through the fabric of his shirt and her brain chooses to focus on that, on wondering how his skin would feel if she could just get him out of his shirt and-</p><p>He lets go of her mouth, and her face gets hit with a gush of cold air from his absence, and she wants to yell at him to come back, but he’s moving down her jaw, to her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses there, sucking lightly on her collarbone before moving back up, one hand in her hair as his lips touch a spot behind her ear that makes her knees buckle and she has to hold on tighter to his shoulders because she’s about to-</p><p>She’s totally, completely aware of every nerve ending in her body sending out signals to her brain, screaming at her to get <em>more, more, more</em> of this feeling her body isn’t accustomed to anymore. She’s also aware, in a moment of terrifying clarity, that they’re doing this completely exposed, under the harsh neon lights in the hallway of Alex’s crack-den apartment building, with everyone she knows just on the other side of the door. She should put a stop to this, push him away and try to regain her composure and maybe tell him this is not what she meant for it to happen tonight, but then-</p><p>-then Andrew’s mouth is on hers again, intoxicating, and she forgets everything about decency, and coworkers, and being a sensible forty-years-old-mother-of-three. She takes his bottom lip between her teeth, bites lightly on it and smiles against his mouth when he groans, his hands flying up again, touching her everywhere. He palms her breast, thumb stroking her through her blouse and her bra and she gasps at the sensation. He chuckles, steps <em>closer, how is that even possible</em>, his leg between hers and his knee pushing right against the spot she needs it to, and-</p><p>There’s a loud, booming sound that erupts from the other side of the door. It’s followed by cheerful screaming and bottles popping, that to her sex-addled brain sound more like gunshots than the celebratory sounds of her friends welcoming the New Year. </p><p>Andrew jumps up, startled, pulling out of her reach. He looks around, alarmed, but it’s only a fraction of a second before he realizes what has happened. He smiles then, sheepish and a little ashamed, blushing as he fixes his eyes on the floor. Meredith takes the opportunity to look at him properly, the way that his skin is flushed pink and his shirt irreparably wrinkled, his hair sticking up in all directions where she ran her fingers through it. The sight of it floods her heart with warmth and affection, something she does not expect, and instinctively she reaches out, smoothing down his curls.</p><p>His head whips back up and he looks at her, surprised, his gaze immediately softening when their eyes meet. His eyelids flutter close, a content sigh escaping him, and Meredith wants to kiss him again, wrap herself around him (or have him wrapped around her, she doesn’t care), and never let go. When he opens his eyes, he smiles timidly, and speaks the first words either of them have said in what feels like hours.</p><p>“We didn’t even wait for midnight, huh?” His voice is hoarse, a reminder of what just happened, and Meredith <em>knows</em> she should be freaking out right about now, but instead she laughs at that, delighted, tugging lightly at his hair </p><p>“I don’t mind” she shrugs, grinning, and he follows, laughing quietly at her crinkled nose. He takes a step forward again, crowding her against the wall, again, and she feels an inkling of the heat from before starting to pool in her stomach and her breath catches in her throat. But he’s lost the urgency he had, and now everything about his gestures is softer, calmer, the way he fixes her hair behind her ear making butterflies flutter in her chest.</p><p>Arousal, butterflies… he’s really putting her through everything, all at once.</p><p>
  <em>That’s not normal, right?</em>
</p><p>“Do you want a glass of champagne?” he asks, out of the blue. He looks at her, expectantly, and she finds she doesn’t want to say no.</p><p>“Sure, let’s go.”</p><p>It’s mortifying, walking back through the door (that damn door that always makes so much noise), people turning to look who’s coming it. They’ve been gone long enough that there really isn’t much of a question of where they went, or what they were doing. Meredith makes herself invisible, pointedly looking at her shoes, and Andrew ducks out, whispering to her ear that <em>he’s going to find to glasses, be right back</em>. She’s left standing alone in the middle of the room, and it’s not long before she gets stormed by…</p><p>“So, is that why you didn’t want to come tonight?” Jackson’s voice pipes up from behind her and she winces, counting to three before turning around to face him.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes at her, and scoffs. “You’re not even subtle, neither one of you.”</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>“What do you mean <em>neither</em>?”</p><p>“Do you honestly think I dragged you here tonight because I needed a friend? He’s been talking my ear off for a week, I couldn't take it anymore.”</p><p>
  <em>What?!</em>
</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>“Just-” Jackson’s voice softens, there’s nothing of his usual bite. “-just give him a chance Mer, okay? He’s a good guy.”</p><p>As if he was being summoned, Andrew reappears at her side, pushing one of the glasses he’s holding into her hand. She takes it, on autopilot, a little shell-shocked from Jackson’s words, the tequila, the <em>frankly inappropriate make out session</em>, and now the fact that somehow Andrew’s presence at her side immediately put her at ease, makes her feel calmer.</p><p>“Who are we talking about?” Andrew asks, his usual cheery tone ringing in her ears. That was <em>not</em> what he sounded like minutes ago…</p><p>“No one” Jackson is quick to answer, shooting Meredith one last warning look. “I’m heading home, ‘night guys. Happy New Year.”</p><p>Meredith watches him leave, and she feels trapped in a time loop, the way this scene mirrors the start of the night, her watching someone leave and being left alone with Andrew, who says…</p><p>“So.” His breath is hot in her ear, and now that she knows what it feels like to have him do more than just this, she thinks she might lose her mind.</p><p>“So” he repeats, looking up at him, defiant.</p><p>“What do you wanna do now?”</p><p>Meredith thinks. If this really is a time loop, does that mean the next step is a repeat of the hallway?</p><p>
  <em>Well, then.</em>
</p><p>“I was wondering, do you need a ride home?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>THIS IS A MESS I AM VERY SORRY</p><p>i'll give a cookie to anyone that can spot all my dumbass trademark headcanons.</p><p>leave a comment if you want, or come find me on <a href="https://sentichefuoripiove.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>!</p><p>thanks for reading xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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